I turned my head to gaze out one of the three windows of my living room. For the moment it was quiet and peaceful. It was early evening and the sun was glancing off the lilac tree situated at the corner of my neighbours house across the street. All at once, my sensations were flooded and memories came rushing back and I realized, I was wishful.
won't be going anywhere this summer. There aren't any fantastic across
border plans happening. This year, this summer we will have a staycation.
I am teaching Friday mornings and Hubby is changing jobs. Neither of us
is going anywhere.....at least anywhere far away. Nope, this summer
will be filled with back yard barbecue, summer reading and the noise of
And I am wishful.
am I anyway? Once upon a time, I hated to go anywhere. It's lot's of
work to pack up the camper and take off for the weekend. You need to
grocery shop. You need ice. You need bug repellent.
used to go almost every weekend. By the time Hubby was off work Friday,
I would have the camper packed and ready to go. We'd hop in our green
Ford truck which hauled our camper and towed our little red boat behind
which inevitably would break down AGAIN and we'd get to Piprell Lake or
Anglin Lake or once even Morin Lake just in time for a wiener roast. It
would always be cooler at the lake. By sun down you'd need your bunny
hug and warm socks.
Thinking about it.....I could almost smell the campfire.
get me wrong! I love my little corner in the city. I love my little
house and my little yard. I love that they are building a new Walmart
Supercentre right here so I won't have to drive to the south side
anymore. I have great neighbours..... But there's that nagging feeling.
That feeling that it would be so much more relaxing somewhere else.
am NOT a tenter. Back when I was a kid, my family camped in a tent. We
had fold up cots to sleep on at night. Soon, my Dad thought it would be
more comfortable for us if we were up off the ground. So he turned his
utility and tent into a tent trailer. We were camping in style! Then Dad
had to put it up once too many times in the rain. The family got a
camper. That was something else! Who needed to cook over the fire
anymore when you were equipped with a stove and fridge? Eventually, Dad
upgraded to a motor home and donned the personalized license plate UP N
GO. That's the evolution of camping.
back when I was about 10 years old…..maybe even younger…..we were
camping in that homemade-fold-’em-up-tent-trailer and it was the middle
of the night. I was asleep as you can imagine one would be in the
middle of the night, when my Mom woke me up. “Wake up and be
quiet…..there’s a moose outside.” How much quieter can one be when said
person is asleep? Indeed there was a moose outside. And you could
hear him chomping. We must have parked amongst his midnight snack
time, when I was not so child like, we were camping and heard rustling
in the woods, or maybe it was the sound of a large animal running down
the gravel street. At any rate, it was not a sound any human could
make. We had been gathered around the campfire swapping fish stories
when this sound occurred. I looked at my Mom. My Mom looked at my
Dad. We all looked at each other and made a mad dash for the motor
home. That is, all except Hubby who had failed to hear the sound we
heard. He didn’t know what had happened to make us high tail it inside
so quickly. We had left the poor guy in the dust wondering what the
heck had happened!
always had our share of mishaps when we were camping. Something always
went wrong with our boat trailer. It was always needing repairs. On
one of Hubby’s and mine maiden voyages we locked ourselves out of the
truck camper during a rain storm. Then there was the time that the
support on the tent trailer broke and we hauled the picnic table over
and propped that end up with oars from the boat. There was the time
that the spare tire rolled out of the wheel well during the night making
me think a wild animal was charging the camper. And there was the time
that a bear left us his calling card by rubbing up against the truck
camper and leaving scuff marks.
Yup. Good times.
That’s the sound of the campfire under the stars and northern lights. It’s calling to me.
And I am wishful.